Lonely Pedestal
by Satipheen
Summary: The Dark Days were over, the Capitol had won. But the Capitol had a new way of keeping the enslaved districts under their control…Ladies & Gentlemen welcome to the First Hunger Games! SYOT – STILL OPEN!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games

Right well I have always wanted to do one of these though I'm aware SYOT stories have probably been done to death already but I hope there are some out there interested…! :)

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><p><span>Lonely Pedestal<span>

President Kravosk leaned on the marble balustrade and looked out over his newly secured Capitol.

A labyrinth of Capitol design, on the surface aesthetically stunning buildings; estates, houses, towering pinnacles of apartments with vast views, parks, theatres, restaurants…etc and below the surface deadly pods.

The malevolent grin on his face turned down at the corners slightly in a sour grimace as he let his gaze wander further and saw the ruined remains of the parts of the Capitol the Rebels had managed to breach that had yet to be rebuilt.

His arm tingled or rather where his arm _should_ have been. He had been caught in an ambush and the blast of the explosions had ripped his arm right of, completely irreplaceable.

His commanders and advisors and a hundred others had all warned him not to go to the Capitol outskirts that day – that it was a trap. That the Rebels were only doing it to provoke him, but President Kravosk had always been a man of volatile emotions that once enraged within him he lost all semblance of sense.

Once a challenge was set, President Kravosk would meet it.

There was a pointed clearing of someone's throat behind him and President Kravosk whipped around to see who it was.

Senna, his newly appointed Head Gamemaker stood emotionlessly with an armful of blueprints balanced expertly in her hold.

A wicked grin crossed President Kravosk's face as he eyed the rolls of paper eagerly.

Jumping excitedly like a child at the prospect of new presents he raced back into the room, leaving his bitter moaning over his losses in exchange for the promise of something better…revenge.

The Districts would suffer for their insolence; a price so high they would never again dare to rise up against the Capitol.

District 13 had been annihilated or so it appeared to be…one thing that counted for more than anything in the Capitol was appearances.

The rebellion had been crushed months ago and the District dwellers had since then been trying to simply survive; to quell the upsurge of disease, to try and find food, to save the injured, to rebuild their shattered homes.

And during those months in the Capitol they had not been idle; no…they had been conjuring up an idea so fantastic it was sure to go down in the History of Panem.

President Kravosk tried to rip open the blueprint, growling in anger when he couldn't manage it with only his one arm.

Senna silently took it from him and opened it, spreading it out across the table.

If anyone else would have done that Kravosk would have had them severely punished for presuming him to be so inept that he couldn't unroll a simple piece of paper; which would be correct – but that was beside the point!

However given it was Senna that did it Kravosk merely smirked.

Senna was a wonderful creature Kravosk thought; she was alike him in all the best ways but without the emotion and passion to hinder her.

Any other idiots that had of seen him struggling with unrolling the blueprint would have meekly offered assistance, maybe a poorly concealed look of disgust or else they would have gone off on a tirade of how it made him look more heroic; all of them imbeciles Kravosk sneered.

But not Senna. The only thoughts that would have gone through Senna's head would have been; The paper needs to be opened. Kravosk can't open it.

Kravosk rocked on his heels impatiently as Senna rolled out all the blueprints on the huge table that dominated most of the room.

Truthfully Kravosk didn't pay much attention to the painstakingly minute detail that had been slaved over them; he was always one for wanting the bigger picture and in this case it was the arena he wanted to see.

The result of Senna's fantastic brain that Kravosk admired so much.

Senna was a woman of few words and fewer emotions; ever calm and emotionless.

She had no family to speak of and no interest it seemed in any other living creatures; her only passion was for her creations – those horrifying blood-curdling creations she designed.

Her face was always a mask of composure not betraying a thing. Before the Games had even become a thought during the Rebellion Senna was known as 'The Talker'.

Whenever they would capture Rebels they would drag them down to the very bowels of the Capitol where they would be thrown into a cell and then Senna would be sent for.

Kravosk remembered one particular Rebel; he had the dark hair, olive skin and grey eyes of what the Districts referred to as 'The Seam'.

"Ha – they call you 'The Talker' eh? Well you don't say much do ya sweetie?"

Senna had merely replied tonelessly and without a single blink, "it is you who will be talking."

Kravosk chuckled darkly now even thinking about; boy did that Seam Rebel talk alright, talked his jaw right off begging Senna to stop.

But what made Senna really fantastic at her job and the perfect candidate for this new one was Senna didn't care.

Not in the nonchalant petulant sense of the term but rather in the way that Senna lacked any basic human empathy for another human being; the words mercy, pity or any feeling at all were foreign to Senna.

Kravosk nodded approvingly, a dark gleam in his eyes, a brown so dark in colour they were almost black, as he looked over the blueprints. He recognised some of the designs that Senna had used in the cells to get the prisoners talking and some new ones that promised to be even more entertaining.

However as Kravosk's gaze roamed over the blueprints his frown slowly returned.

"Is this all Senna? There isn't more?" he remarked annoyed.

Senna looked to him expressionless, not at all intimidated by him.

"It was Clark," Senna answered.

Kravosk ground his teeth together in anger.

Clark; that damn imbecilic fool. The man was head of representation; the more visual side of their upcoming Games.

And he was forever squawking on about how they could make the Games meaningful, build them into something that could live on as the Capitol's legacy.

Kravosk had snorted in wry amusement but had reluctantly agreed to allow Clark to include 'interviews', 'chariot rides' and 'training'.

Kravosk had laughed outright at the idea of 'training' but then Clark, the annoying little pest that he was pointed out that as they intended to use children aged twelve to eighteen – so as to hit the Districts were it hurt most – most of them would need training if they were to survive past the first night of their planned arena.

"Your grand Games will be no Games at all! – Just a few hours of bloody meaningless slaughter!" Clark had sniffed indignantly.

Kravosk rolled his eyes as he could practically hear the man's voice squawking in his head like some meddlesome bird.

"Ignore Clark," Kravosk growled. "Include all your designs Senna. We'll think of something else to keep the little mites alive long enough," Kravosk perused one of Senna's particularly gruesome designs with a dark smirk.

"Parachutes," Senna announced suddenly.

Kravosk snapped around to face her, his brow furrowed, "what?"

"It was an idea Clark was mentioning. One may sponsor a player in the Games and send them in 'parachutes' to aid their survival," Senna explained clinically.

Kravosk rubbed his hand along his jaw thoughtfully as he considered the idea.

And then with a great booming laugh he shrugged carelessly with an easy grin.

"Why not? We'll let the little fool build these into the grand spectacles he wants them to be. Me and you really know what these are about don't we Senna," Kravosk looped his arm companionably around Senna's narrow rigid shoulders, a sinister note to his voice.

"And what is that Sir?" Senna intoned, not a trace of curiousity in her voice.

"Brutal glorious slaughter to show those pesky Districts precisely who is in charge!"

"As you wish Sir. All details will be finalised in a meeting tonight with all attending. I hand in my final designs in the morning to the construction team to start building the arena," Senna informed him.

"Good…good," Kravosk nodded with a wide grin.

Senna silently rolled up the blueprints and gathering them up walked towards the door.

"Oh and Senna!" Kravosk called.

Senna turned expectantly.

"We won't call them players," Kravosk considered contemplatively, "no players sounds too positive, too _voluntary," _he continued.

He paused for a moment before there came a sudden light to his eyes and he grinned with malice.

"Tributes! That's it Senna!" Kravosk laughed loudly.

"Two tributes, one male, one female between the ages of twelve to eighteen from the Twelve Districts of Panem to be offered up to the glory of the Hunger Games!"

"Hunger Games Sir?" Senna repeated questioning.

"There are many different types and things to hunger for Senna and I will make sure the Districts feel every kind in these games. Hunger for sustenance, for love, for human comfort…hunger for life itself."

Senna nodded once in a show of approval before she turned sharply on her heel.

President Kravosk returned back to his marble balcony overlooking his glorious Capitol and beyond the Capitol the Twelve Districts of Panem that wouldn't know what hit them when the announcement was made tonight.

"Let the First Hunger Games begin…"

...

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><p>So for the tributes…<p>

**Name;**

**Age;**

**Preferred District? **

**Strength** (with weapon or maybe they don't have one & personality strengths also);

**Weaknesses? **(physically and personality-wise)

**Role in the Rebellion**; (fighter, communicator, doctor – healer - , family in the rebellion, maybe they didn't fight at all – too young, thought it was too much violence?);

**Family **(try and include any particular relations you want stressed; like a particular bond with their brother etc.);

**Appearance **(I don't want to sound mean or anything – this is meant to be a SYOT after all but please don't make it something unrealistic like multi-coloured hair and changing coloured eyes…etc);

**Personality **(at least three solid adjectives e.g. stoic, silent, determined);

**Their attitude towards the Games** (do they want to win? – I just thought given that this was the First Hunger Games things like Career tributes wouldn't really be around yet. Do they want to defy the Capitol in some ways during the Games?)

**Open to a romantic relationship? **(Or are they already involved in one? Back home? Etc.)

**Alliances?**

**Token? **(doesn't have to have one)

**Would you mind terribly if they were killed off during the bloodbath?**

**Any particular preferences to 'outfit' / Chariot costume choice?**

**Preferred death? **

**Training Score?**

'**Interviewing Angle'? **(I'm not really sure how that would play out with no mentors or any previous experience but maybe your tribute is super manipulative and really wants to win?)

Anyways…phew; that's about it. Sorry if that list of things was too much and took the fun completely away from creating your own tribute or anything. First SYOT and I wanted to make sure I did it properly.

Please PM me with your 'tribute' and include any additional information you want, or anything you think may help me to portray your character better (maybe a quote of something you can imagine them saying? – Entirely up to you) But please...don't send me any Mary-Sues or Gary-Stus because I will either completely change them until you don't recognise them or not use them at all.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Night had fallen, the sky a blanket of pitch black; starless.

Senna walked briskly down the long silent corridor, the smart rap of her footsteps on the polished floor echoing off the walls.

The huge doors loomed before her, the muted murmur of voices drifting through it, a sliver of light spilling out from underneath it.

Senna didn't hesitate for a second as she pushed open the doors.

Heads snapped around to face her; many wore expressions of disgust, begrudged admiration – fear.

The observation neither pleased nor annoyed Senna.

She knew what the people of the Capitol thought of her.

They looked down upon her, yet acknowledged her _work _with grim smiles.

It mattered little to her, but all the same Senna was far from foolish and she made sure to keep informed of all Capitol gossip, no matter of how little interest it was to her.

"Senna," the woman turned sharply at the call of her name.

Clark marched determinately towards her, his lips pursed in annoyance. He reached her and folded his arms crossly, arching an expectant brow.

Around the room low murmured conversations began to spring up again as people turned back to their private company.

Senna stood silent, unmoving, waiting.

Clark huffed a little; miffed that Senna would not rise and play his game but he had expected no less from the expressionless woman.

"Your designs," Clark hissed.

Senna didn't speak a word.

Clark sighed in annoyance before he elaborated, "I thought I told you to cut down on your _contraptions_," Clark stressed with disgust.

"President Kravosk ordered me to include them," Senna answered before she turned away from him, considering the issue closed.

Suddenly, as if on cue the huge doors swung inwards and President Kravosk stood in the threshold beaming.

"Hello all!" President Kravosk announced brightly as he swaggered into the room, "how is my arena coming on, hmm?" President Kravosk walked to the main table as those around him scurried to attention, eager to gain his approval.

Kravosk cast a critical eye over the numerous plans laid out on the table, a happy smile on his face as he rubbed at the short stubble on his jaw contemplatively.

Someone beside Senna pointedly cleared their throat and Kravosk glanced up from his musing.

"Sir," Clark addressed Kravosk with a polite smile, "_Senna _has included far more designs than we had originally agreed," Clark pointedly let his gaze slide over to Senna who stood stoically beside him, her gaze fixed ahead.

The smile immediately fell from Kravosk's lips, "and why shouldn't she?!" he bellowed.

Clark clearly not expected such a response spluttered for a moment as those around looked on in hushed anticipation.

"B-But Sir I thought we agreed…" Clark trailed off unsure as he tugged at the tight collar of his silk shirt.

Kravosk rolled his eyes before he wandered over to the table that held refreshments.

Idly Kravosk picked up a red apple before he ripped a huge bite out it with an audible crunch.

Clark cringed as he watched the juice dribble down his President's chin, though the man seemed unfazed by it.

"Clark if you want to remain on this side of the Games and not in them I recommend you quit your whining," Kravosk said in a completely amicable tone with a pleasant smile.

Clark visibly paled as a hushed dangerous silence fell over the occupants of the room.

Kravosk suddenly laughed loudly startling all, except Senna who watched the proceedings without so much as a twitch of her lips.

"Now – how are things coming along? Updates people! Updates! I want updates," Kravosk demanded impatiently, almost bouncing on his toes as he munched greedily at his apple.

"The _creatures _that were requested are almost complete – we would like to _test _them first," a small man with wire-rimmed glasses piped up.

Kravosk laughed callously in understanding, "there should still be some rebels left in the cells to be of some use."

"Very good Sir," the man nodded with a smirk, the artificial lighting catching his glasses so they glinted cruelly.

"Construction on Senna's designs can commence immediately Sir," another man said gravely.

"Good – good!" Kravosk nodded.

"And…Sir; the media representation of the Games," a brave soul piped up in the form of a short woman with cropped red hair and bright pink lips.

Kravosk ripped another chunk out of his apple as he chewed noisily, seemingly in thought for a few moments.

"What about it?" Kravosk finally remarked in an irked tone.

The woman exchanged nervous glances with her companions who all nodded her on encouragingly.

"Well Sir my team and I were…were…"

"Hurry up!" Kravosk demanded.

The girl jumped and nodded vigorously with a muttered apology.

"Well we were thinking of mentors for the tributes Sir."

A silence fell across the room for a split moment in which everyone held their breath as Kravosk looked almost thoughtful.

Then…

"CLARK!" Kravosk threw his apple core across the room, missing Clark by an inch.

The man jumped almost a foot in the air with a startled yelp.

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO MY GAMES?!" Kravosk demanded.

"S – Sir?!" Clark squeaked, his eyes bulging as those closest to him discreetly edged away.

"I do NOT want this to be turned into one of your silly little shows!" Kravosk's voice lowered in volume but it lost none of its spite.

Clark nodded furiously as though his head were attached to a string, "of course Sir – of course!" Clark readily agreed.

Kravosk grumbled under his breath, a frown etched deeply on his face as he walked slowly towards a trembling Clark.

But Kravosk merely narrowed his eyes at the said man before turning his attention to Senna, who stood silent and dispassionate.

Kravosk looped an arm around Senna's narrow shoulders, "You're the only one that understands me Senna," Kravosk whispered loudly as he glared suspiciously at all else gathered in the room.

The other occupants of the room remained in fearful silence; they by now knew their President's erratic and questionable moods and did not want to suffer for it.

As the silence stretched on, a grin slowly spread across Kravosk's face which in turn then produced dark chuckling to wild laughter.

Many shuddered in fear, cowering behind friends; the state of their Presidency's sanity had long been a topic of discussion for a long while now as well, but none dared raise the subject.

"I want my arena in two weeks' time," Kravosk turned on his heel, humming as he went.

Chaos erupted behind his back as the man in charge of construction looked fit to collapse and everyone else seemed close behind him.

_Two weeks?!_

"Senna surely you can reason with him!" one of the women called to the expressionless woman.

Senna faced the woman, her face completely unsympathetic.

"Reason!?" another man gave a bitter laugh, "You cannot reason with madness."

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><p>Right well; just to say <strong>still places left!<strong> **Can't start the Games until I have all the tributes!**

District 1 Female;

District 1 Male; TAKEN – Sparkler 'Sparky' Sterling

District 2 Female; TAKEN – Zee Adams

District 2 Male;

District 3 Female;

District 3 Male; TAKEN – Sebastian Lone

District 4 Female;

District 4 Male;

District 5 Female;

District 5 Male;

District 6 Female;

District 6 Male;

District 7 Female; TAKEN – Ashni Took

District 7 Male; TAKEN – Woody Westbrook

District 8 Female;

District 8 Male;

District 9 Female; TAKEN – Collette McLellan

District 9 Male;

District 10 Female;

District 10 Male;

District 11 Female; TAKEN – Courtney Herzog

District 11 Male;

District 12 Female;

District 12 Male;

District 13 Male/Female – Idea if anyone wants to toy with it; survivors of the 'annihilated district' – Capitol wants to get rid of them?


	3. Chapter 2

**Azalea Portsmith**

**District One; Female Tribute **

Chapter Two;

"Azalea darling when are you going to marry me?" he grinned up at her, all cocky bravado, hands behind his head as he leaned back leisurely in the hospital bed.

Along the ward a few of the younger patients sniggered, clearly having egged him on to tease the young Capitol nurse.

Inwardly Azalea rolled her eyes, outwardly her perfect smile never faltered as she stood tall, flicking her red hair over her shoulder, "oh Darrell," Azalea sighed whimsically, her green-eyed gaze for a moment looking dreamy.

A ripple of louder sniggers sounded throughout the ward as the young soldier sat up in bed suddenly alert with a lecherous grin and a hopeful light in his eyes as he suddenly forgot to be self-conscious about the burns that mottled his chest.

"Yea?" he prompted her, winking to his friend in the bed beside him who nodded encouragingly with a wide grin.

Azalea had to contain the smirk then as she turned to him, her angelic smile never slipping, "as soon as you can make it through the night without waking up and screaming and wailing like a baby about your bad nightmares like the infantile that you are, of course I'll marry you."

Not only did the smirk fall from Darrell's lips but his entire face turned ashen as he sunk back into the bed and a hushed horrified silence fell along the ward.

Azalea did roll her eyes then as she scoffed before turning on her heel sharply, her crimson hair trailing out behind her for a brief moment as she strode from the ward her head held high, ignoring the scathing glares she was receiving.

Azalea didn't bother going to the nurse's station where she was sure to only be bombarded with more rounds by that whining Head Nurse.

Wards of injured Capitol soldiers who thought that fighting against the Rebels made them automatic heroes and entitled to any woman they wanted.

Azalea had just turned 17 last month but unlike most of the ditsy Capitol girls here she had something between her ears other than glitter.

Sliding into the storage room Azalea slumped into one of the flimsy canvas chairs there as she picked irritably at the ridiculous pleats in the dress of this Capitol nurses' uniform.

And there she let the smile slip and her brows drew down fiercely over her emerald eyes as she scowled darkly; her thoughts returning once more to _that topic._

The War was over and now it was only the ever dwindling numbers of Capitol soldiers with more serious injuries that lingered here.

More and more nurses were being let go everyday as there was less and less need for them.

Azalea drummed her nails against her pearly white teeth – courtesy of her great service to the Capitol – as she considered the real problem.

What was she to do?

All these ditsy Capitol girls with their ridiculous hair and faces would flit back to the protected Capitol and return to their lives of luxury.

But Azalea…?

Azalea's frown deepened; she couldn't stay in the Capitol – she had already asked, even with the service she as a Capitol Nurse and her father as a Capitol soldier had done, it was made clear the Capitol was for Capitolites only.

Azalea tugged more at the annoying pleats; but what kind of life was there for her back in District One?

She grimaced slightly; it wasn't that she feared going back though she was far from naïve, she knew what they would say about her, about her father.

Azalea didn't care, her father had taught her one lesson and that one lesson had stood by her.

_Make sure you are on the winning side._

She had been; the Capitol had won not the Districts and while her friends in the Districts who had stood with the rebels had been trying to piece together their lives after the War, Azalea had a warm bed and rich food here in the Capitol.

And that was what Azalea feared.

How could she expect to go back to the District after living so long in the Capitol?

The more Azalea saw of the Capitol the more something grew in her – a hunger.

Why couldn't she have a life of luxury, of bliss and riches here in the Capitol?

She deserved to be here more than that stupid soldier Darrell who lay in his hospital bed, jumping at shadows and shying away from every little flicker of light as though it were an inferno.

Azalea scoffed irascibly, getting up to pace the narrow space the room provided, _think Azalea! Think! _

She couldn't go back to the Districts after life in the Capitol; it would be like to go from being full to being starving – in fact that's exactly what it would be like, Azalea realised grimacing.

Azalea almost jumped a foot in the air when the man appeared before her – a feat in itself because Azalea was a hard person to sneak up on.

He smiled thinly and with one glance Azalea could tell three things about him; one – he was no common Capitol foot soldier, two – he was most definitely a Capitolite and three – she could use him.

Azalea plastered on a charming smile, "can I help you?"

The man's pale blue eyes flitted to her name tag, "Azalea Portsmith," he read in a lilting accent and Azalea pretended to laugh demurely as she nodded, tucking a strand of crimson hair behind her ear.

He grinned up at her given Azalea was a few inches taller than him.

"Now Azalea you seem like a pretty smart girl – do you think you could help me get a big box and fill it with bandages?" he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

_I'm in a damn nurses' uniform of course I can get bandages you imbecile!_

Azalea smiled sweetly as she turned and procuring a box from one of the lower shelves in the storage room she began to fill it with rolls of sterile white bandage.

"What's all these bandages for?" Azalea's green eyes grew round and she looked to him, innocently curious.

He was captivated, and Azalea nearly bit her tongue of trying to stop from laughing.

"Now I couldn't possibly tell you that…" he trailed off with a chuckle.

"Aw, you can tell me," Azalea encouraged, pouting her lips.

He glanced over his shoulder and Azalea made to paste on an overly excited expression as he leaned close – too close – to whisper in her ear.

"They're to be sent to the Districts," he told her, drawing back with an eager little nod.

Azalea's mask slipped for a moment, her voice hardening, "the Districts?" she repeated.

The man hushed her casting a panicked glance over his shoulder.

"Yes you see President Kravosk ordered it, bandages and other medical equipment to be sent out – to all the Districts," the man whispered.

Azalea felt a shudder race up her spine at the mention of the President.

She had only seen him once; when he had been rushed in, his left side a bloody pulp of pulsing red and black.

She couldn't precisely remember his face, nothing spectacular look-wise she recalled but clear as day she could _hear _it.

His laughter, echoing the whole way to the operating theatre.

Azalea's brows furrowed in confusion, _why?_

She turned to the man and she felt anger coil hot in her stomach though it never showed through the perfectly serene mask she wore.

The man before her knew – of course the man knew. But he was gazing at Azalea hungrily, waiting.

_So that was his game was it?_

Inwardly Azalea was repulsed, disgusted at this little fool of a man that could possibly think that he could ever be with someone like her.

But she didn't let any of it show as she leaned forward and gave him what he asked for silently; the same thing Darrell and half the other soldiers in this hospital asked for as they watched her work.

Never with words but Azalea could feel their eyes.

She would smirk thinking how they could never have her, not unless _she let them. _

Because this was her game and she controlled the rules.

Afterwards he smiled at her, toying with a strand of her crimson-red hair as she pretended to be interested elsewhere.

"So what does President Kravosk want with sending all these medical supplies to the Districts?" Azalea asked, her tone mildly curious.

"Oh that – well, the medical supplies are only to be used on children aged 12 – 18. Peacekeepers will ensure the Districts adhere to this rule," he said.

"Peacekeepers?" Azalea echoed.

"President Kravosk came up with it along with some high ranking lieutenants; an elite force to be hand-picked from the Capitol army to ensure Capitol Law is enforced in the Districts."

Already cogs in Azalea's head were tuning – _peacekeepers _– her father could do that – a high ranking position maintaining links with the Capitol.

Her thoughts focused back on his voice.

"Why only children aged 12-18?" Azalea asked.

For once since she had met this Capitolite his expression turned deadly serious and he swallowed thickly, glancing at her briefly, "it's dangerous."

_You fool, all the more reason I should know, _her thoughts snarled.

She smiled sweetly at him, "you can tell me," she wheedled and just like that he caved in like a house of cards.

_Pathetic. _

"It's for the Games you see, President Kravosk wants all the children to be fit to participate to make for a long show…"

Azalea listened in rapt attention as this small pathetic man told her about the Games – these grand, upcoming Games.

But it was more than that Azalea realised as she licked her lips hungrily – it was her chance!

"What would one get if they were to win something like these Games?" she asked, her voice hushed.

The man gave a short laugh, "everything they ever wanted."

Azalea didn't hear whatever else the man was saying because already plans were forming in her head – she wouldn't just be in the Capitol, not just a pathetic little nurse but a Victor; a status that would mean something grand even here in the Capitol.

"But a pretty little thing like you wouldn't want to have anything to do with dirty games like the Hunger Games," the man said flicking the end of her nose playfully.

And Azalea forgot for a moment that she was meant to be the ditsy little nurse as the genial slightly dazed look fell from her face to be replaced with eyes as cold as emeralds that were keen and focused.

_Dirty games? You pathetic little fool – what do you think this is?_

Azalea felt the calculating smile spread across her lips as she envisioned all the riches, the glory after she had been _crowned Victor. _

_The Hunger Games, eh?_

And inside Azalea Portsmith the hunger grew.

* * *

><p>Anyways, I was thinking of doing this for a few characters (sort of the lead up to the Reapingsfinding out about the Games), then a few characters for the actual Reapings, train rides etc? Rather than 24 different Reapings? Opinions? Agree/Disagree? I just thought given this is the First Hunger Games, to make sense of why some people may have wanted to go into them or whatever? But this is a SYOT so reviewer input is vital ~hinthint~ :P

Very eager to hear from 'Guest' reviewer a.k.a creator of Azalea Portsmith, did she live up to your expectations?

Anyways; **still places left** for anyone interested also;

**District One Female; Azalea Portsmith**

**District One Male; Spakler 'Sparky' Sterling**

**District Two Female;**

**District Two Male;**

**District Three Female; Techna Pixel**

**District Three Male; Sebastian Lone**

**District Four Female; Nelly Serva**

**District Four Male; Samson Specif**

**District Five Female;**

**District Five Male;**

**District Six Female;**

**District Six Male;**

**District Seven Female; Ashni Took**

**District Seven Male; Woody Westbrook**

**District Eight Female;**

**District Eight Male; **

**District Nine Female; Collette McLellan**

**District Nine Male;**

**District Ten Female; Gwyneth Styles**

**District Ten Male;**

**District Eleven Female; Courtney Herzog**

**District Eleven Male;**

**District Twelve Female; Brook Fields**

**District Twelve Male;**

**District Thirteen Female;**

**District Thirteen Male; Chrome Ali**


End file.
